


Nameday

by Eremiss



Series: Guinevere Ashe [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Birthday, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, and a smidge of angst at the start that I forgot about lol, just a cute lil drabble, when you aren't used to birthday gifts and don't know what to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eremiss/pseuds/Eremiss
Summary: It's somebody's nameday, though they haven't said a word about it.Thancred PoV
Relationships: Female Warrior of light/Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: Guinevere Ashe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632004
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Nameday

Given how Gwen wasn’t generally inclined to share much about herself, it came as no surprise that it took the Scions quite a while –far too long, truth be told– to realize none of them had any idea when her nameday was.

It also came as no surprise that she didn’t actually answer when asked. “Oh, not for a while yet.”

And so it was that her first nameday in their company came and went unacknowledged.

The second did as well, though that arguably had more to do with the consequences of Lolorito’s schemes and Ilberd’s betrayal than the Scions’ thoughtlessness.

The Fortemps, however, proved more stubborn than the Scions when it came to weaseling out information. Twelve know Emmanellain could wear anyone down if he was in their company long enough.

Or perhaps they were just better friends to her than the Scions had been.

Thancred bristles when he thinks about it, aggravation, jealousy and more than a little guilt clanging around in his head. 

Even _Alphinaud_ knows, for Twelve’s sakes.

He tries to ignore those less-than-just feelings by focusing on the upside: Emmanellain can’t shut his mouth to save his life, and it was easy to steer him into telling Thancred what he wanted to know while the nobleman remained oblivious.

Gwen’s nameday is the 26th Sun of the third Umbral Moon. 

—

The door finally opens. Thancred tries to look particularly casual leaning against Gwen’s desk, snuffing out the last of the annoyance that has been prickling across his shoulders ever since he received word the courier would be late. They’d made it, thank the Twelve, but only barely.

Gwen pauses in the doorway, the surprise on her face quickly morphing into amusement. She drawls, “I don’t recall giving you a key to my room.”

He replies with a puckish grin. “You didn’t.”

“Hm.” She gives him a playfully dubious look as she shuts the door, _And yet here you are._

He spreads his hands and shrugs. “I have my methods.”

Gwen huffs a laugh and heads for her wardrobe. “And reasons, I presume?”

Thancred could assert that he always has a reason of one form or another, but decides to stick to his initial plan. “Do you know what day it is?” 

She pauses, blinking at the handles on her wardrobe for a moment before tugging the doors open. “The 26th, I think. Why?”

“Indeed.” He puts a teasing lilt to his tone that suggests he knows something she doesn’t, “But do you know what _day_ it is?”

Gwen is shrugging out of her coat and armor, trading them for lighter loungewear that’s better suited for a muggy afternoon of paperwork. “Ah… Firesday?” she says guilelessly.

His grin flattens slightly, his hopes to build some anticipation falling utterly flat. Given how she always dodged around questions about her nameday in the past, he probably should have expected this sort of insouciance. 

He pushes himself off the desk and ambles to the wardrobe, tugging the little box out of his pocket and wincing internally when the contents shift. He might need to have a few words with that curmudgeonus goldsmith about taking more care packaging his products. 

“What? Did I forget something?” Gwen asks, clearly puzzled. She genuinely doesn’t seem to know what he’s trying to hint at.

There’s no way she could have actually forgotten her nameday, surely…

Unless the date she’d told the Fortemps was merely to appease them so they’d leave her be? Thancred hadn’t considered that option, and the idea gets discomfort worming into the back of his mind. He’d confirmed the date with Tataru, but she’d apparently learned it from them, too.

“T’would appear so,” Thancred replies without the slightest hint of doubt. 

Gwen turns towards him, only half-changed, and before she can speak he offers a plain-looking box that’s small enough enough to fit in his palm. 

She pauses, a complication of emotions flickering across her face.

Surprise first. Then happiness that’s slanted with curiosity, her eyes flicking up to his and then back to the proffered box. 

He hopes she doesn’t mind the lack of wrapping or adornment, as he hadn’t had time for either thanks to the delay in delivery. That’s what he gets for deciding to go with a goldsmith all the way in Ul’dah despite being so last-minute.

A puzzled wrinkle forms between her brows as she continues to glance between his face and the box, trying to make sense of the look on he’s giving her that says she ought to know what this is about. 

Her eyes suddenly light up with comprehension, her lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as a fresh wave of surprise washes across her face.

That momentary doubt about the date vanishes beneath a swell of smug satisfaction that has him grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

Gwen’s expression melts into something warm and soft, lips curving with a small, shy smile. Her brows are still tugged thoughtfully together, eyes bright and curious as she curls her fingers into her hair. Her lips shape a few words she doesn’t quite manage to say until, eventually, she lets out a small, astonished laugh.

She asks, utterly baffled, “But how did you…?”

Thancred leans closer and asks teasingly, “What day is it, dove?”

Gwen glances aside, smile quirking bashfully and face darkening with embarrassment at having forgotten such an obvious thing. “It’s, ah, my nameday.”

He offers the box again, shamelessly pleased. “For a moment I was worried you’d forgotten.” 

Gwen huffs defensively at him, even as her tickled little smile refuses to leave her mouth. “How did you know?” 

“Tataru,” he replies simply. And the Fortemps, he doesn’t add.

She hums and nods, attention drifting back to the box. Her eyes trace the shape of it, eager and curious about what could be inside. Then her gaze lifts to his face again, searching. Either she’s unsure if she’s allowed to take it now, or she’s trying to judge if he plans to tease her with a bit of keepaway.

He’d been leaning towards the latter, truthfully, but she looks so excited…

Thancred waggles his hand, “Go on, it won’t bite.”

She rolls her eyes theatrically and accepts the gift with the utmost care, holding it delicately like the little box itself is precious. Her expression bends with something deeply tender and grateful, and she murmurs, “You didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I wanted to,” he replies, letting a smidge of honesty touch his tone. 

Gwen’s eyes sparkle, wrinkling at the corners when favors him with a sweet, adoring smile he can’t possibly deserve. A light, fond thing blooms in his chest that makes him feel a fulm taller and a bit lightheaded. He smiles back somewhat awkwardly. 

Her attention returns the box and she turns it over in her fingers, inspecting and pondering. She’s handling it so daintily, like the flimsy cardboard is as valuable as the contents. “What is it?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Thancred replies matter-of-factly, getting his footing again. He wonders, not for the first time, how long it’s been since anyone –even Gwen– had so much as acknowledged her nameday.

He gestures at it and prompts, “The gift is _inside_ the box, you know.”

The way she pouts at him can’t quite disguise her relief at being given such explicit permission, hesitance visibly oozing out of her.

Anticipation tightens across his shoulders as she tugs at the lid, doubt suddenly wrinkling his confidence. He may or may not hold his breath when she finally gets it open.

Gwen lights up like the sun, delighted.

It’s a struggle to not let out an explosive sigh of relief.

Thancred watches her unconsciously reach up to tug at her bare earlobe, as if only just remembering she’s been without her earrings for weeks. She’d lost one some time back and removed the other for the sake of symmetry, but she’s never had the chance to replace them. 

In a way he’s grateful, as otherwise he would have had a much harder time figuring out what to get her.

Gwen’s smile is small, almost private, but it’s so heartfelt it makes his knees weak and his heart skip. She runs her fingers over the golden hoops and murmurs, “Thank you,” so sincerely it nearly drives him to fidget.

He’d been prepared for happiness and gratitude, but not for her to be so sweetly, genuinely touched. Not that that’s a bad thing, just… the way she’s looking at him is… He isn’t accustomed to this sort of soft, open adoration, even from her, and he doesn’t know how to react. He’s off-balance in away he’s not used to, and he’s not sure how to feel about it. 

Thancred covers his floundering thoughts with a corny bow. It earns him both a fondly exasperated laugh and a moment to get his head in order.

As he straightens up he asks, just to be sure, “I take it you like them?”

“I–? Yes!” Gwen replies immediately, still beaming. “Yes, they’re wonderful. I…” She tilts her head towards her bathroom hopefully, asking a question with her expression. 

He shoos her away with a flick of his wrist. 

She scurries off, disappearing to thread the hoops through her ears in the mirror. He uses the time to shake his head and compose himself again, taking a calming breath and clearing out all the disorienting fluff. 

It’s heartening, truly, to see her so very tickled and happy. But at the same time he can’t help realizing just how unaccustomed she is to being shown such thoughtfulness.

Gwen returns, still wearing that elated little smile and positively _glowing_ , lightly tugging at her new earrings as if assuring herself they’re real and at no risk of falling out. The gold hoops aren’t ornate or flashy, but they’re finely crafted and just the sort of clean, simple design she favors. There’s something particularly satisfying about seeing her wear earrings again, and he realizes that these last few weeks have been the only time he’s ever seen her without that particular accessory.

Thancred welcomes her embrace, his thoughts threatening to turn fuzzy again when she presses her smile to his and murmurs, “Thank you,” against his lips.

On a whim, just for a moment, he lets himself get lost and indulge in her wonderful giddiness and affection, reveling in the satisfaction of being the cause.

She’s still grinning by the time they part, guiding him down to rest his forehead against hers and swaying lightly from side to side. _Always fidgety_ , he thinks fondly, swaying with her and trying not to grin like fool himself. Her lifted mood is proving rather contagious.

He holds her a little tighter and murmurs, “Happy nameday, dove.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy nameday Gweeeeeen <3 <3
> 
> I was on the strugglebus for this _for suuuure_ but I like how it came out lol I was _determined_ to get this posted today.
> 
> I forgot I made the intro so fuckin’ angsty lmao


End file.
